


Death March, Endless Waltz

by ThunderDownOnGreenside



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst and Feels, Arranged Marriage, Broken Promises, Doomed Timelines, Eventual Happy Ending, First Love, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Past Character Death, Sexual Content, Tragic Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:24:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1926555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderDownOnGreenside/pseuds/ThunderDownOnGreenside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time he tells himself that it’s going to be different. Every time he swears that it’s finally going to work out. And every time he finds himself unable to resist the hold that Rin will invariably have on him, so he goes again. And again. And again. And it’s always different, but it never works out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death March, Endless Waltz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrioMaxwell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrioMaxwell/gifts).



 

_The first time was nothing more than that; he didn’t think he would ever get another chance afterwards. He’d closed the case when he’d said goodbye all those lifetimes ago, clutching his trembling hand and trying not to just lose his mind right then and there – at least, he’d thought that he had._

 

 

_As it turns out, it hadn’t been enough._

 

 

_Despite his best ambitions, he’d spent the rest of his working days estranged by great sorrow over the untimely death of the prince. He had been haunted by his visage, flashes of red darting around marble corners and wine-colored eyes gleaming with mischief reflected in glass walls. He had loved to sing, and that haunted him too; the lilting tones that echoed through the halls when no one else was around, soft lullabies and gentle love songs that he had liked to hum to himself when he was alone with the few people that he trusted._

 

 

_People like Seijuurou._

 

 

 _He had grown too close to his charge, he’d known that – and now he would never forget – but how could he have resisted? Rin was too compelling, too mysterious, too graceful and magnetic to just_ forget _about. They had both been younger when he was first assigned – Seijuurou eleven, Rin nine – and he had watched the younger grow up alongside him, every day brighter and keener and always more independent. Each had found a friend in the other, a bond of camaraderie and honesty and mutual trust and it was only a matter of time before he found himself trapped a little deeper than he probably should have been. He was enraptured, captivated, completely swept up in the prince’s glory – somehow, he could never be sure if Rin knew it or not._

 

 

_And still they drew closer to one another, through endless nights and long talks and chasing games around the palace as Rin shirked his duties and Seijuurou attempted to coax him back to said responsibilities. Often times the guard would just give up and heft the prince up over his shoulder, bodily transporting him back to his chambers or the throne room or wherever Rin was actually supposed to be at that given time. He was the younger man’s protector, his best friend, his unofficial teacher, and as Rin liked to say it, his equal._

 

 

_But that was all before Seijuurou turned the corner in the gardens one black night to find his beloved charge slumped down next to the fountain, a blade in his body and blood staining the stones beneath him red, red, red._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_“Rin!”_

 

 

He’s shocked awake again, ripped out of unconsciousness by the burning memory of an untimely death, his heartbeat racing and his breathing coming in short bursts. His room is shaded dark and he’s alone –

 

 

“Seijuurou, what...?”

 

 

The redhead freezes in his bed, still halfway sitting up, a panicked breath caught in his chest. Above him, he hears his bunkmate shift and lean over the side, long hair falling over his eyes and looking so familiar that it almost breaks his heart.

 

 

“...Sorry.” he manages, trying to brush it off, but Rin isn’t having it. He slides off and drops down next to Seijuurou, reaching out to touch him on the shoulder.

 

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

 

And the older male can’t breathe, can’t stand it, and the tightness in his chest is as strong as it had been the moment he’d first seen his charge again, decked out in camouflage and Kevlar and frowning at his comm. device. He almost hadn’t believed it, but there was no one else that it could have possibly been.

 

 

The Rin in this world is only slightly different than the one he knew first, but he’s quickly found that, essentially, the younger man is still his old charge at heart. This Rin is more disciplined, more serious and stern due to a stylistically different upbringing, but he also holds onto a deeper rebellious streak and has a much more patient side than Seijuurou had ever previously been accustomed to.

 

 

That quality is shining through now and he takes advantage of it, grasping Rin’s outstretched hand in his own and holding it against his chest, right over the increased pace of his heart. The fact that his charge – or in this world, his teammate – even allows this suggests a dramatic shift in mood that Seijuurou hadn’t noticed earlier.

 

 

“...Seijuurou?”

 

 

Rin’s voice is barely above a whisper, but the elder just shakes his head, not yet prepared to let go and not yet prepared to explain. He never gets the chance to, anyway. The last he sees of Rin is the end of the younger male’s red ponytail as the nineteen year old whips around a corner, leading their enemies away from their team and away from Seijuurou and after that?

 

 

All he gets are a set of ID tags.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_When Rin was the prince, things had easily settled into a routine. There were lessons to partake in, drills to oversee, and royal parties to attend, all of which the younger would hide from, skulking and glowering the whole time. As a child, he was merely disinclined to dance or speak with guests without Seijuurou by his side, but as a young adult, he flat-out refused to be involved with such things regardless of who accompanied him. He did, however, attend every single one of princess Gou’s birthday parties without any fuss and also willingly participated in the event designed to let her meet her suitors, although he mostly just stalked around and growled at anyone who seemed to be getting too comfortable with her. At one point, Seijuurou had been worried that Rin might get married off to some other kingdom, but he had soon discovered that his fears were primarily unfounded. Most of the other royal families wouldn’t even come near the prince with a ten-foot pole when it came to such a proposal._

 

 

_If there was one thing that Rin loved, however, it was the local festivals held outside of the palace. When they were younger, they would sneak out to watch from a distance, Rin drinking in the sights and Seijuurou captivated by the whirling lights reflected in the prince’s sparkling eyes. Later, however, things were different. Rin stopped waiting for his guard to come around; he simply expected him to follow. Seijuurou learned to be on top of his game when festivals were occurring; he didn’t even stop by the prince’s chambers anymore, he just went immediately to the gate, where he would always find Rin hiding in the elaborate foliage growing around it._

 

 

_Being a young man with a very distinctive, attractive appearance, the prince had to take great pains in order to avoid being recognized. He quickly picked up on the art of it and became a master of disguise. But Rin was wild and free-spirited, a dancer and a performer, and Seijuurou couldn’t contain him nor did he really want to. Rin was beautiful when he was free, pitch-darkened hair flying as he spun under the strung-up lights, fingers curled around the scarf he was using to cover up his mouth. Once, they danced together, surrounded by a crowd of distracted people, their fingers laced and their faces only inches apart, a glorious flush at the proximity on the prince’s cheeks. Seijuurou could feel Rin’s heartbeat pounding against his chest; he could see every flicker of light in his ruby eyes, every little flash of a smile from behind that glittering scarf. He’d almost kissed him right then and there; even later, after Rin had teased the merchants and taunted the street guards and they were hiding in an alleyway, breathless with laughter and pressed so close together, he’d still wanted to do it. He wanted to seal that ever-shortening distance between them at long last. He wanted to tell his prince that he loved him, damn the inevitable consequences._

 

 

_But all he really ever got to tell him was goodbye._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You ever wonder what all of this is for?” Seijuurou pauses in the middle of knotting the ropes, glancing up at his fellow shipmate from his spot on the deck’s floorboards.

 

 

“What, this?” he gestures vaguely to their surroundings – nothing but a massive ship and the even more expansive ocean – and Rin nods, leaning against the siding as he turns to gaze out across the sea. “Maybe sometimes, but I’m not really that kind of guy. I take things as they come.”

 

 

His old charge seems to mull over this for a bit, tilting his head in achingly familiar consideration before nodding, coming to some unknown conclusion and appearing to be satisfied. Leaving his post, he drops down next to Seijuurou, taking one of the undone ropes from the pile.

 

 

“I guess I’d never thought about it as something that involved such an attitude as yours.” He offers the other a sharp-toothed grin before continuing. “I’ve never been too interested in things that have no purpose. I had my plans at the start, but this new agenda isn’t really working for me, you know?”

 

 

And Seijuurou can’t really talk for a moment there because _goddamn_ he sounds just like the previous lives. The first Rin would always be challenging lessons, shooting down policies, dissembling useless and unusable theories and the second wasn’t much different, if only more militant. The first had no patience for the royal world, no respect for its traditional methods, preferring to be unorthodox and bold in his personal endeavors rather than proper and reserved. He and his sister both, actually; they were passionate and fiery about measures of justice and had similar attitudes about running a kingdom.

 

 

There was one major difference though, Seijuurou notes wryly as he undoes a faulty knot, ignoring his shipmate’s snigger at the mistake. Rin had been a little _too_ unorthodox, a little _too_ bold. He had been dangerous and unpredictable and not very well-liked because of it. The princess, on the other hand, was an actress, the perfect picture of propriety, concealing all of her potent ferocity and playfulness behind a dignified curtsy and a bright smile. Rin subsisted because he bent things to his will. Gou subsisted because she used her will to quietly make those things bend.

 

 

They’d found out the hard way that subtlety made the strongest survivor, and in the end, Rin was anything but subtle.

 

 

“Hey. Buddy.”

 

 

Seijuurou blinks rapidly as sun-tanned fingers snap just under his nose, making him go cross-eyed before he swats the offending appendage away.

 

 

“Yeah, what?”

 

 

Rin just laughs at him, the sound clear as a bell, and it’s so hard not to lean across the space between them and kiss him. Instead, he flushes uncharacteristically before shoving another rope into the younger male’s hands.

 

 

“Keep tying, Matsuoka.” He mutters gruffly, and Rin laughs again.

 

 

Later, when they’re all crammed into their barracks for the night, Seijuurou is roused from his fitful rest by the sound of someone creeping around on deck. A cursory scan of his surroundings reveals Rin’s absence; with a huff of mixed frustration and amusement, the older rolls out of bed to follow. Nothing has changed, really; it doesn’t matter what life they’re in, he’s still sneaking around and Seijuurou is still stuck keeping track of him.

 

 

It takes him a bit of time to locate the other but when he does, he feels his throat close up a little. Seeing Rin standing there up along the prow, silhouetted against the stars with his hair blowing lightly in the wind, takes him so far back that his chest literally aches with longing. He’s crossed the deck before he even realizes that he’s moving and when Rin turns around at his approach, he really can’t resist it this time.

 

 

Despite his high, he’s still surprised when the other readily responds, melting into his embrace and gripping his hair to keep him close. With every movement of Rin’s lips against his, the ache in his chest only intensifies – but then the smaller male pulls back slightly and gazes straight into his eyes, his own glimmering with suppressed emotion.

 

 

“Do you mean this?” Rin whispers, his voice hesitant, expression hardly daring to show hope.

 

 

The smile on his face when Seijuurou nods in affirmation dissolves the pain completely, if only for a moment before they have to face reality again. Because he knows that nothing is ever sacred in these cursed places and that his luck will always run out eventually.

 

 

And so, when an enemy raids their ship with the intentions of taking no prisoners, he knows better than to look for Rin. There’s no way he could have survived, no way that he didn’t go down fighting – but he ends up searching for him anyway.

 

 

He’s right, of course.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_If there’s anything he remembers clearly, it’s Rin’s friends. Infatuation aside, the prince had been a strange one, and it definitely made life easier to know that there was someone else that Rin could turn to if Seijuurou wasn’t around. Being the captain of the guard definitely left him a busy man._

 

 

_But so. On to Rin’s other friends._

 

 

_Probably the one he recalls with the most fondness is this one merchant named Makoto. He was tall, much like Seijuurou, but with a gentler disposition and a more relaxed attitude. More often than not, he was smiling, and he always had time to help someone, no matter what he was actually doing. Rin trusted him implicitly and always made an effort to look for him if he was lucky enough to get out of the palace before dusk. Eventually, Seijuurou had learned to trust him too._

 

 

_Another friend – and this one he never quite managed to figure out – was a younger dancer named Nagisa, a mischievous and cheerful teen who made friends by immersing himself in their everyday lives._

 

 

 _And, despite Seijuurou being suspicious and Rin being, well,_ Rin _, it worked._

 

 

_It was through Nagisa that they became acquainted with Rei, a junior street guard who took his job very seriously. Once you got to know him he was a lot more companionable, but their first few encounters spawned nothing but tension and maybe a bit of frustrated ranting on Rei’s part. Seijuurou also had to spend some quality time with Rin, explaining to him that just because he was a prince, that didn’t mean that he could do whatever he wanted to, especially not disturbing the peace. (They’d always been disguised at the time, but the point was valid regardless.)_

 

 

_Then there was that strange wanderer, Haruka. He’d certainly been an odd one...they’d gone to visit Makoto one day and he’d been there, poking through the various wares the merchant had set up, eyes a bright, enchanting blue. Rin was inexplicably drawn to him, although it was clear that Makoto had a stronger bond with Haruka than he could ever hope to match. Nevertheless, they formed an odd little group, one that Gou slipped into as well. They were a special little group, untouchable, awe-inspiring. They made Rin very, very happy, and thus made his bodyguard happy in turn._

 

 

_Haruka had been staying with them the night that Rin had been murdered. Seijuurou tries not to let that bother him too much._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Captain Mikoshiba.”

 

 

Seijuurou sighs, rising from his seat and turning to face his subordinate with a vaguely frustrated expression on his face.

 

 

“Matsuoka, I’ve told you many times that just ‘Seijuurou’ will suffice, you don’t need to tack any of that extra stuff on there. What do...you...Rin, what’s going on?”

 

 

The redhead trails off as he really takes in the sight of his vice-captain in the dusky light of his room, enraptured by the way that the lamplight gleams softly against the curve of his bare shoulders and the arch of his throat. The younger man seems hesitant but resolute in whatever motive he’s currently pursuing, which reflects Seijuurou’s own state of mind quite accurately. He often forgets that this world is different, that his friends are different, that Rin –

 

 

“Seijuurou, I...” the younger man looks up, expression emotional yet unreadable all the same. “I don’t know.”

 

 

“What do you mean?” _God_ , he’s gorgeous, even in his indecision, and Seijuurou knows that he’ll never get over it. Rin bites his lip and fidgets, squeezing his eyes shut in preparation for an outburst.

 

 

“I...I...” his vice-captain swallows hard, his whole body trembling once before he bows abruptly, bending sharply at the waist and hiding his face from view. “I’m in love with you!”

 

 

Seijuurou’s heart clenches at the confession, eyes widening – several decades’ worth of pain and lost familiarity come back to him in full force, the words echoing in his mind alongside screams and whispered, bloodstained farewells. It’s one of those moments that he’s been waiting for his whole life, for all of these lives, over and over again (but why here? Why now? Why this place?) and there really isn’t another way to get through it other than act on it. He can’t let it go. He refuses to.

 

 

Somehow, Rin still seems more surprised than him about the situation, but then again, Seijuurou doesn’t usually get to surprise him in the first place, so the victory is twice as sweet when his vice-captain makes a small noise of shock against his mouth when he pulls him up for a kiss.

 

 

“C-Captain?” Rin only manages a startled word in between before Seijuurou kisses him again with twice the insistence, and after that, he falls silent. Better to let this be and take it while he can – with the work they do, there’s always a chance that one of them won’t come back alive.

 

 

“Rin.” Seijuurou murmurs, and the younger man inhales sharply as he feels his back press up against the wall. His gaze burns into his captain, sure and strong, and that’s something that’s never faded away, no matter how many lifetimes pass by. It’s one of Seijuurou’s favorite things; it’s the first thing that reminds him of why he’s loved him for so long.

 

 

This time there’s something more than a frantic moment stolen in solitude. They’re alone here, at long last, and Seijuurou lets his kisses linger, lets his hands wander, lets his body move on its own accord. Rin’s hands make their way under the hem of his shirt even as Seijuurou twines his fingers in the other’s hair (and it’s just as soft as he remembers). He ducks down, lips pressing against the hollow of his subordinate’s throat and Rin moans softly, back arching slightly in response.

 

 

Somewhere in the quiet, Seijuurou moves a leg between Rin’s thighs and _pushes_ , rolling his hips forward in a single, sure motion and the other gasps at the sudden burst of friction there. “S- _Seijuurou_ ,” he whimpers, the rest of his words smothered by hot, messy kisses. “Ssh,” Seijuurou murmurs, hands moving to hold Rin’s waist steady, thumbs stroking against sensitive skin. “I’ve got you, I promise.”

 

 

 _I promised_.

 

 

That’s what he tells himself when they get separated, that’s what he tells himself he hears the screams, that’s what he tells himself when he finds Rin alone on the ground, bleeding, unmoving if not for the faint rise and fall of his chest. A few of his weapons lay strewn out beside him, his prized katanas thrust into the ground at an awkward angle. It’s over, again, but Seijuurou can’t help himself when he pulls Rin into his arms, remembering the last kiss they’d shared before departing for their mission.

 

 

“Rin.” He manages even as his throat constricts, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes. “I...”

 

 

“I’m sorry.” Rin whispers, his voice thin, his eyes looking at Seijuurou but seeing something far, far away. “I’m sorry.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Sometimes, if Seijuurou listens hard enough, he can still hear Rin singing. Granted, the words are distorted now, the melody a little fuzzy in some places and absent completely in others, but the sound is still crystal clear and it always will be. His voice was something beautiful, something gloriously haunting and gentle and Seijuurou had always sworn that he would never forget it._

 

 

 _Really, he’d sworn a lot of things for his prince. They had been the pact-making type as children; that is, they would solemnly swear a variety of things to each other with, at the time, little understanding of the potential consequences. Their first deal as a master-servant pair had been that they would always be together, no matter what, and while it had seemed plausible at the time, they both grew to acknowledge the fact that it would be a very difficult contract to maintain. Another promise had pertained to marriage, of all things; Rin, not wanting to be forced into a relationship with some foreign stranger at the tender age of eleven, had made his guard swear that he would marry him one day instead. The prince had reasoned that if he was already taken, they couldn’t make him choose a fiancé, and although Seijuurou had tried to explain that they couldn’t possibly get married_ ever _, a very large part of him had been rather flattered by the nature of the agreement. Later on, he’d wondered if Rin had forgotten about that particular deal._

 

 

_He’d never gotten to ask him, either._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You’re the new recruit, right?”

 

 

Seijuurou does his best to sound informal, to sound cheerful, to keep the telltale hitch out of his voice and maintain some semblance of normalcy in front of this lifetime’s Rin Matsuoka – but when the younger man turns around to face him, Seijuurou’s breath catches sharply in his chest because _oh_ , something is different this time.

 

 

In the past, it’s never been like this. His heart may jump twice and his palms may sweat and his chest may ache with increasing insistence at every subsequent encounter, but it’s never been like _this_. He’s never seen the light of recognition that must flash in his own eyes mirrored in Rin’s; he’s never really _seen_ the slow smile that spreads across his face as his lips part to form his name.

 

 

“...Seijuurou?”

 

 

And the captain gapes because, again, it’s never been like this.

 

 

It’s never been like this, either. Not the slow press of Rin’s body against his own, not the arch of his back as Seijuurou curves over him, not the edge of desperation to his kisses as he nears completion. Rin cries out when his captain moves inside of him, voice ragged from gasping so hard; Seijuurou can’t ever get enough of this, not the pressure Rin’s legs around his waist, not the color of his hair against the pillow, not the fluttering of his eyelashes as he tilts his head back and _moans_ , the sound torn from his throat with every thrust.

 

 

Because this is finally, _finally_   happening, and Seijuurou feels so much of it at once that he hardly even knows what to do about it. The love of his life – the love of his many, _many_ lifetimes – is here, in his arms, fingers intertwined with his own and so, _so_ close to him in the one way that he’d always dreamed of. Seijuurou kisses him again, trapping Rin’s next cry with his mouth and feeling the way that his lover arches at the angle change. Heat burns and pools deep within him, and he knows that he must be close; when Rin tosses his head and lets out a high, broken moan, he knows that he must be close too.

 

 

His breath is coming in bursts when he feels the tension snap. Spots dance in front of his eyes as a whole rush of sensations overtake him completely, setting his blood on fire and drawing one long, low groan out of his chest. Through the stupor and the near ringing in his ears, he can hear Rin as he follows close behind, lips parting on a loud, trembling cry that comes out almost like a gasp. He feels Rin’s back arch against his body, feels the way that the muscles in his legs twitch, feels the grip of his fingers tighten from where they’re entwined with Seijuurou’s own. He can’t stop himself from kissing him again, not when Rin always kisses him back and not when this is it. This is everything.

 

 

This is everything.

 

 

But of course, it’s also nothing, and this world is not the one where it all works out either.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_What Seijuurou remembers best, other than Rin’s eyes and his voice and the touch of his hand, is his unshakable sense of duty. When it had all come down to it, there towards the end, his prince had cast aside his insubordination and recklessness and had traded it in for the leadership they’d always known that he’d possessed deep down. He became sharper in his thoughts yet softer in his words, warmer in his guidance yet colder in his heart. The officials had deemed it a miracle, a fated expression of the latent talent within the stubborn prince just when the land had needed it most, but Seijuurou had known better._

 

 

_He’d seen the toll that the change had taken on his prince; he’d lived through the pressure and the pain right alongside him, a hand on his shoulder and his hair and the small of his back when no one else was looking. He’d spoken out of turn more than once, and should have had his tongue cut out for showing such blatant disrespect to men of higher status, but Rin had refused to chastise him for his defense. When the court had grown tired of the prince’s unyielding terms, no matter how correct he was in contrast to their corrupted measures, Seijuurou had stepped in and spoken all that Rin had been bound not to say. It had been liberating, it had been empowering, and it had been the only thing that he could really do for him._

 

 

_Rin had needed him, and Seijuurou had never let him down._

 

 

_He finds it painfully ironic that the one time he had, his charge had wound up dead._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When he sees him again, nothing is there.

 

 

No recognition, no kindness, nothing. Just bitterness and anger and pain seared deep into red eyes, red eyes that never, _ever_ look at him no matter what he does.

 

 

_(Haruka, Haruka, Haruka.)_

 

 

Rin doesn’t let him in, doesn’t get near him, doesn’t even speak to him. Just like last time, something has shifted, only this time it seems to be for the worse. Seijuurou has never had this hard of a time getting through to someone before, especially not his old charge. Not his prince. Never Rin.

 

 

But he pretends, watches out for him and does his best to keep him safe, to keep him from hurting himself. At times, he’s unable to resist giving Rin what he wants, but other times, he only does what he has to do. Even so, Rin hardly acknowledges him, and when he does, it’s not the same.

 

 

_(Swimming. Swimming. Swimming.)_

 

 

Even when the bitterness sweetens and the anger calms and the pain fades away, Rin still doesn’t look at him. No, Rin has eyes for his friends. Hazuki. Tachibana. Nanase. Again. Seijuurou counts three times when he manages to hold the younger’s focus for longer than a few seconds – once after regional’s, once during the sendoff, and once before it’s all over – and all of them are the same.

 

 

_(For the team. For the team. For the team.)_

 

 

No one dies this time, but if anything, it hurts him even more than if someone had.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_He remembers it like it was yesterday, and for all intents and purposes, it may as well be. He sees it in his nightmares often enough._

 

 

_It had been a rough evening dealing with the court, something softened only by Haruka’s presence in the palace. Rin had gone to him immediately following the gathering, waving Seijuurou’s cautionary words off with an unusually irritated hand, and the captain let him go, understanding the prince’s need for space and solitude. Haruka represented everything that court life did not: independence, ease, and most importantly, freedom._

 

 

_So Seijuurou had taken it in stride and had focused as best as he could on his guard duties, although twice he found his mind wandering and more times than that he had begun listing towards where he knew that Rin would be. He hadn’t been able to place his unease at the time, only that it was shadowing him quite insistently._

 

 

_But he’d carried out his duties with all of the composure and skill of a proper captain of the guard before retiring briefly to locate the prince because, despite everything, the feeling had not subsided. Rin’s favorite hiding place could be accessed by a shortcut found in the palace gardens, so that had been the first place that Seijuurou had gone._

 

 

_And that’s where he had found him, linen trails of cloth unfurled on the hard ground next to the very fountain that the prince was slumped against, his head resting on the edge of it with his hair spilled out behind him. Even in the low lighting of the area, he had still caught the sight of a metal dagger glinting, buried to the hilt inside of Rin’s body._

 

 

_Seijuurou remembers screaming his name before running to his side; he remembers pulling him into his arms for the last time, his whole body shaking at the sight of all the blood and the cold stillness of Rin’s face. He remembers the way that Rin’s throat had worked when he’d tried to speak, the way that his chilled, trembling fingers had desperately gripped his own as the terror became evident in his half-dazed eyes. He remembers Rin clinging to him, tears staining his shirt and chest heaving as the prince fought for those last, shallow breaths, struggled to find the strength to say something, anything._

 

 

_Seijuurou remembers him saying something about Gou, something about his friends, but mostly he remembers a promise – **stay with me** – and the gentle brush of Rin’s cold fingers against his cheek before it was all over._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Seijuurou.”

 

 

He meets the prince’s gaze with as much inner strength as he can muster, barely able to look at him without flinching at the sight of the distinctive white finery draped over his lithe form. Rin always has looked good in white, but Seijuurou can’t ignore the turquoise gem accents or the gold circlet in his prince’s hair or the jewels clasped around his slender throat. No, he can’t ignore it at all, not any of it.

 

 

“Yes, your highness?” Rin’s expression darkens for a moment and he looks away, one hand leaving its place on the banister and moving to cover his mouth. He seems thoughtful, almost pensive, and more than a little upset. Hm. That makes two of them.

 

 

“Do you remember...when we were children? The promises that we would make? The things that we would say, as though we could decide our own futures?”

 

 

“Of course.” Seijuurou affirms, wondering where this is going. “Every one of them. We did it so...so we _could_ decide our own futures.”

 

 

His prince looks so melancholic and bitter for a moment that he almost wonders if he’s said something incorrect, but thinking back, he realizes where the problem must lie.

 

 

“As if I’ve ever had a say in my future.” Rin mutters, but Seijuurou shakes his head and moves closer, unable to stand seeing such an expression on his beloved’s face. Seemingly on its own volition, one hand goes to Rin’s cheek and stays there. The contrast of their skin is evident – the prince is pale, his face soft and smooth underneath Seijuurou’s tanner, calloused touch – just as the contrast of their status is evident in the style of their clothing. Seijuurou, single, male, royal captain of the guard but lower-class nonetheless. Rin, male, royalty of the highest degree. Most sought-after prize in all of the lands. Seijuurou’s leader, charge, best friend and secret love.

 

 

About to be married.

 

 

Rin’s fingertips are cool when they touch him, his hand coming to rest over Seijuurou’s own where it lingers on the younger man’s cheek. His eyes are bright with something unspoken, something hovering just behind the veil of what turns into words and what is lost forever, and Seijuurou finds himself wanting to know what it is. As it stands, he may never get this chance again.

 

 

“Rin.” He whispers, watching the way that his prince’s gaze flickers down to his mouth for a moment. “Please speak to me. Say what you need to while you...while you still can.”

 

 

Rin’s grip on his hand tightens slightly but doesn’t leave; his other hand drifts up to grasp the front of Seijuurou’s shirt, fingers clutching the material right above his heart. His whole body shakes on a steadying breath.

 

 

“We made a promise once,” he begins, his voice low. “When we were children in another lifetime. I made you swear...that you would marry me when we got older.”

 

 

Seijuurou laughs incredulously, only half of him able to believe that this is happening. Rin laughs slightly too, the focus in his eyes strengthening at the encouragement.

 

 

“Of course, you told me why that couldn’t possibly happen, what with your status as a guard and mine as royalty, and of course, I didn’t care. I’d meant it, at the time, and well...”

 

 

The prince takes a deep breath and looks Seijuurou straight in the eye, taking one small step closer so that the space between them is almost nonexistent.

 

 

“I still mean it now. Whether or not you remember or care, I...I love you, Seijuurou. I’ve loved for a while now, and...to me, again, it feels like it’s been lifetimes. Over and over again, from a place like this one to worlds we’ve never even imagined...I’ve loved you. And, sometimes, you’ve...you’ve loved me too.” Rin’s voice trembles and his eyes flicker down, the words catching in his throat. “Please, just...I just wanted to say it...just this once...before it’s too late again.”

 

 

His grip on Seijuurou falters and he seems to think about withdrawing, but then something steely flashes in his eyes and he changes his mind. Carefully, slowly, he leans forward – his eyes are bright, he smells like home, the light is playing across his face just so – and presses a kiss to Seijuurou’s lips, gentle and sweet.

 

 

The touch lingers, intensifies – Seijuurou finds himself responding even in his shock, his free hand moving to the small of Rin’s back and lips parting slightly as he tilts his head. Rin, for all his initial hesitance, doesn’t wait for the uptake to really kick in. The moment the other begins to react, he reacts as well, and Seijuurou feels fingers in his hair and the strong press of his mouth and the firm stance of Rin’s body as it arches against his own.

 

 

When they finally pull apart, chests heaving and faces flushed and eyes a little dazed, Rin doesn’t let go, just rests his head against Seijuurou’s shoulder and stays there.

 

 

“What do you want me to do?” the captain whispers, arms encircling the other’s body and holding him tightly. “Is there anything we can do?”

 

 

“I don’t want to marry him.” Rin mumbles, his voice muffled by Seijuurou’s shoulder. “It’s all for political gain, nothing good for the kingdom...I just...I just want to...”

 

 

“Want to run away with me?” Seijuurou bursts out, the words leaving his mouth before he can fully consider the implications. “We have a chance. We’ll never know until we try.”

 

 

It’s a full testament to Rin’s recklessness, youth, and undying love for Seijuurou when he straightens, looks him in the eye and says, without a trace of hesitation,

 

 

“Yes.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_“Seijuurou, may I ask you something?”_

 

 

_“Of course, my prince. What is it?”_

 

 

_“Do you think...that you could ever give up on love?”_

 

 

_“Give up on love? ...Never. And don’t you give up on it, either.”_

 

 

_“You promise?”_

 

 

_“I promise.”_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Seven months, nine days, and five hours after its conception, this fic is finally finished. Writing is never easy. Ever. This proves it. And, after all of that time, I finally softened up enough to let it end in a way that can be conceived as open and happy, rather than my original intention...sad, heartbroken, and alone...currently running on about four hours of sleep and it shows, ahaha XD
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! I worked really hard on this, it has grown by about 3000 words in the last four days alone...


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